


False Image

by lumifuer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Angst, Dean Winchester Angst, Domestic Dean Winchester, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, F/M, Hurt Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Psychological Torture, Torture, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumifuer/pseuds/lumifuer
Summary: Based on the writing prompt #671 "You never loved me. You loved the idea of me."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time writing a story based on a prompt so let me know what you think!

**[Writing Prompt #671](http://writers-are-writers.tumblr.com/post/154941750686/prompt-671) by [writers-are-writers](http://writers-are-writers.tumblr.com/)**

You grabbed the rest of your clothes from the wardrobe and carelessly shoved them in the duffel bag which was already filled to its limits. You threw your guns into there,too, not having enough time to actually sort your belongings and pack them neatly. You needed to leave before he'd come back.

A cold shiver went trough your body when you were painfully reminded of the man who was so dear to your heart. You couldn't be entirely sure if he was ever going to forgive you or at the very least understand why you did it. But you didn't have the luxury to dwell on it anymore. You had to forget and lock it up in the deepest corner of your mind throwing away the key. But it wasn’t the time, you'd have plenty of it to worry later.

You had to leave, but it wasn't going to be easy.

You shook your head, trying to get these thoughts out of your mind and once you went back on track, you looked around to make sure you hadn't forgotten about something important. When the list was checked, you tried to close the bag, but even the damn zip was seemingly against you. You were struggling with it for a solid five minutes before your eyes started burning and the tears were threatening to fall. A huge wave of anger mixed with sorrow and guilt flooded your body and before you could stop yourself you pushed the bag off the bed, enjoying the noise it made when it hit the floor. Your things fell out and scattered on the carpet.

"Fuck," you cried out and fell onto your knees instantly losing all the energy you'd still had in you moments ago.

You allowed yourself a moment of weakness, letting the tear drops roll down your cheeks. You didn't bother to wipe them off. Right there and then you were a mess and you had a feeling in your guts that it'd stay that way for a while. Every sob was bringing a new wave of pain that was constantly trying to make you unpack your stuff and pretend like everything's fine again. But not this time. You had to be strong to finish what you'd already started. Even if it was tearing you apart and killing on the inside. 

Then you heard the door squeaking. Someone closed them shut right after the noise and threw their bag on the table top in the dinning area.

You raised your eyes, listening carefully.

"Babe?" you heard Dean's happy voice.

The urge to sprint out of the bedroom and hug him, letting him run his fingers trough your hair was almost irresistible. He'd tell you how much he missed you and then kiss you softly and slowly. You could imagine a tiny smirk that would appear on his lips once he'd move away to take a better look at his girl.

This time it wouldn’t take place. You got up and angrily wiped the tears off, cursing under your breath. You shoved your stuff back into the bag and threw it over your shoulder. You didn't want to meet with him before leaving. You were planning to leave a brief note, you wouldn't even have to explain yourself on paper. But it was already too late.

You took a deep breath and left the room, trying to sneak out while he was busy in the kitchen. It didn't go too well. Dean immediately crossed your path and blocked your way to the exit.

"Hi, beautiful," the grin on his lips so genuine "How-" he stopped, noticing the redness of your eyes.

He cupped your face into his hands, gently touching your skin.

"What's wrong, princess?" he asked quietly.

You swallowed hard "I need to leave,Dean. Now."

You were trying to fight back the tears and make your voice sound confident, but losing miserably.

"What do you mean? Why?"

I made a huge mistake, I looked into his green, loving eyes and I felt my knees weaken at the sight. The cheerful twinkle that you knew so well was gone. Worry and panic were already manifesting its presence. A single tear rolled down your cheek. Dean mechanically reached out to get rid of it, but  quickly you took few steps back, knowing that if he touches you again the battle is over.

"I can't- I can't be with you anymore," you blurted out.

Dean's body tense at the sound of the confession and your heart shattered into tiny pieces that you wouldn't be able to put back into one place again.

"What did I do?" he asked simply. You knew he was going to blame himself. He always does it. And it broke you even more. Causing him this much suffering was never your intention. But there was no backing down from it.

"It's not going to work out- the thing between us, I can't make it work,Dean," you muttered, tripping over your own words.  

He closed the distance between you in two hurried steps. You could sense that he was feeling cornered, it was visible in his movement and voice. You were supposed to be there, the only person who wouldn't abandon him. Yet there you were, leaving just like everyone else in his life. He must have been sure that there was something essentially wrong with him.

"Y/N," he whispered, taking your hands in his "I will do everything, change whatever you like, you know that I will. Just tell me what it is. Please, don't go, I love you."

A thin layer of glass cover his eyes and you needed to end this. You hated yourself for making him cry, but it was the best chance you'd get to leave without him stopping you.

" **You never loved me** ," you stated, suddenly able to calm down and reason with him " **You loved the idea of me** ; a girl that makes you pie whenever you come home from a hunt and is best friend with your little brother. Who knows how to handle a gun, because that's hot, right? But god forbid you give her a chance to use it on a case. You're overwhelming, Dean."

The last part must have hurt him like a dagger to a heart, because he was trying his best to not be too much for you. He recognized a personal space and even though he wanted to keep you as close as humanly possible, he respected it. But you had to inject enough pain into his system if he was to let you go without further questioning.

He opened his mouth, but apparently didn't find the right words to use, because he quickly looked down and raised his hands in defeat. It was your chance. You run past him and grabbed the door knob. You could still hear his desperate begging on the way to the car. He watched, helpless, as the motel room closed behind you. 

You jumped in and started the engine, not giving him enough time to catch up. You wouldn’t win with his tear-stained face and empty eyes. You had to escape before he gets out on the parking lot. 

You weren't sure how much time must have passed when you were finally forced to stop by the road, because your vision got dangerously blurry.

You buried your face in your hands and leaned on the steering wheel, sobbing uncontrollably. You didn't even know where to go and needed to fight the urge to check on Dean. You left him heartbroken and alone with dark thoughts occupying his head.

Your phone rang, startling you.

Sam was calling.

"Hey, Sammy," you picked up, trying to regain control over your emotions.

"I heard. How are you holding up?" he asked with a great concern in his voice.

"Not to well," I replied, laughing ironically and sqeezing the bridge of my nose, feeling knowing that a headache was coming my way.

"But it had to be done, you know that, right?" he repeated what we were telling each other for over a week.

I nodded, finally calming down a bit.

"Yeah, I know. But it doesn't necessary makes it any less harder."

For few minutes I heard nothing but understanding silence on the other end of the line. Sam knew how much damage it was going to cause, but we both agreed that it was our best and maybe only shot. At least for now.

"I'll keep you updated," he promised "Just, take care,okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Keep an eye on him," I requested. 

“I will,” he said and hung up. 

I was staring at the black phone screen for a long time afterwards, not sure what I was supposed to do. 

It was truly the best idea we could come up with. But  I was terrified that there would be no one waiting for me once we'd be done with the curse. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader escaped from cursed Dean, hoping she will be able to find a solution before it’s too late.

You knocked on the door hoping that one of the few people in your life that you could count on won’t let you down this time either.

As you were nervously waiting for any kind of sign that someone was inside, you looked around. Even if Sammy hadn’t provided you with the address, you would have known right away who was the owner of this place. The house was sky blue, just like the fence around the property. Every window was decorated with something colourful, be it a simple flower or a rainbow. But the garden was definitely the best part. Someone took their time with arranging it, there was an Ewok hiding behind every tree, a Stormtrooper guarding the entrance with a blaster in his hands, Dalek which doubled as a solar lamp. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was so _her_. Suddenly you heard a door squeaking and you jumped, roused from your reverie.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” you heard Charlie’s amused voice. She was as happy and positive as always. A kind smile was making her features so friendly and welcoming. But then she noticed something, “Your eyes are red, Y/N.”

And just like that, happiness was gone as you were reminded of what you’d left behind. Your eyes teared up and you didn’t even try to stop yourself from crying. Without a second thought, Charlie jumped at you and hugged you, locking in a tight embrace, probably trying to physically squeeze the sadness out of your body. And maybe your life, too while she was at it. You stood there for solid five minutes before she let go and invited you in. It was the reason you loved her so much, she was so understanding and full of empathy. Maybe that’s what had brought you here in the first place.

Charlie showed you to the guest room where you were supposed to stay for a few days and helped you with your stuff. She was so patient, not asking about what was the cause of your sudden visit.

Once your clothes were neatly folded in the wardrobe, you sat on the edge of the bed and she followed. You were gathering strength to explain what happened, knowing well that when you open your mouth, everything will become true once again and you were fighting so hard for it to be just another bad dream.

“I guess I owe you some explaining,” you started, playing with you fingers, just another way to realease the tension.

“I wouldn’t complain,” she offered a reassuring smile and bumped your shoulder with hers.

You took a deep breath.

“We were on a case, me, Cas, Dean and Sammy,” you begun your story, “It turned out that the witch was involved. At first we thought it was just another regular hunt. We kill it and we’re done with it.”

You had to pause as you felt a lump in your throat and your vision became blurry. One could think that you’d finally run out of tears, but it seemed that you have unlimited resources.

“We got clumsy. Dean got in a way of a spell,” you continued, avoiding Charlie’s concerned eyes, “We didn’t care much, we killed her and moved on. But the spell, or should I say, a curse lingers.”

“Shouldn’t it be gone the moment a witch dies?” she asked, as surprised as you were when you found out.

You nodded, “That’s what we thought. But the night after the hunt- Dean was different. We waved it off the next morning, but it happened the following night, too. And the next.”

Tears started rolling down your cheeks, leaving salty stains behind. You felt so numb that you couldn’t even raise your hand to wipe them off. You pressed your lips together, trying so hard not to sob. You were growing more and more tired as you were preparing yourself for the rest of the story.  

“So what happened exactly?”

That was the question you were so afraid to answer, because you simply had no idea how to explain it. You didn’t have to discuss it with Sam, he saw it with his own eyes. And it wasn’t a pretty sight. 

“He’s changing into- it’s like the witch knew every creature we had to deal with and victims coming with it,” you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the words falling out of your mouth, “He’s turning into every human that we didn’t manage to save. And the things he says- they’re terrible. It sounds like it’s comeing straight from… hell, tormented, hopeless, hollow, implying that the ones we didn’t save, or rather their souls, are forever trapped down there. And it’s on us,” your voice broke on the last syllable. 

Charlie was speechless. She was usually prepared for bad news and could handle them pretty well. Hell was no longer a big deal for any of you, but this? The moment you placed your foot on her doorstep she knew things must have gone south, yet this was beyond belief. Worse than anything that you’ve ever encountered. True, you always felt the weight of loss on your shoulders, Winchesters did too. You felt guilt so heavy that was almost unbearable, were angry with yourself for not being good, quick or smart enough. But after all, life goes on and new day brings new people to save and cases to solve; a chance to redeem yourself.. That was your way of surviving this nightmare. You never thought that those casualties end up like that. Hell, you couldn’t even tell if this was just a magic way to trick you into constant guilt tripping that would finally turn into paranoia or suicide or a horrifying truth. Terrible, bloodcurdling fact.

You knew what you signed up for when you begun seeing Dean. You’d been a hunter before and this just raised the standards a little bit. Yet you never thought about the fate of the people you lose along the way. They were killed, tore apart, eaten, broken and drown. Gone in a matter of seconds. That’s when concern for other human evolves into self-pity and hatred. Only for a while and then you have to erase them from your memory before it becomes too much of a burden. At least that’s what Sam used to say, Dean would rather listen to the amber liquid in a glass bottle. 

Yet you’ve never thought that truth could be this groundbreaking. You were at war, there was no doubt about this, fight means sacrifaces, you knew that too, all too well. But it was the new idea that was slowly blooming in your mind. What if the winning side takes throphies after every battle? Those who died while serving Heaven were sent there as a reward, demons went back to the fire pit after their demise. But what happens to those who get killed by an accident? Logic was telling you that whoever wins, takes what rightfully belongs to them. Your heart and mind were desperately trying to build a wall around this concept, but this coping mechanism wasn’t destined to take much more damage and you wouldn’t endure you. That’s why you had to leave. That’s what Sammy did, too. Castiel promised to watch over Dean, he was the only one immune, but you knew he had no idea what was truly at stake. 

Charlie’s lips were trembling with fear, you could read that from her wide open eyes. She didn’t want to imagine those things and you felt terrible sharing this with her. After all, this wasn’t her concern. But there was no one else who could hear you out and understand, at least partially.

You remained silent, nervously excepting her reaction. She tried to speak up a few times, but her brain was failing her.

“Do you have any idea how to get rid of this spell?” she asked finally.

You bit your lip so hard that you felt a metallic taste of iron on your tongue. You swallowed and straighten your back.

“We’re working on it,” you said.

Charlie nodded and silence devoured the room.

* * *

Dean was pacing back and forth in the living room, trying to comprehend what just happened. He’s never felt more alone. 

There was something else; some kind of entity crawling under his skin and it wasn’t just a regular sensation, more like one born in other dimension. It didn’t take much time for him to realise that you both were gone because of the last case. All he could remember was going to bed and waking up to you scared out of your mind, curled up in the corner of the room. You refused to tell him what happened and when he kept pressing, you told him that it was just a nightmare, after all, you were entitled to be experiencing those. All three of you forgot about the whole situation and spent the day in a rather usual manner; searching for new monsters to hunt down and people to save. The sun disappeared below the horizon making room for stars and the moon. You went to bed with a sudden haunting thought of sleeping next to Dean sending shivers down your spine. You ignored it, hoping that it was just a one time thing. It wasn’t. That night was even worse, you ran off to Sammy, panicked and calling for help. He stormed into your bedroom and was confronted by distorted noises coming from his brother’s mouth. He took few steps back, it was the first time you saw him like this, completely speechless, terrified. Something inside of him broke at the reminder of all the lives you’d lost. He closed the door, grabbed your arm and dragged you into the kitchen, turning his head to check if Dean was following you, but he stayed in his room, weeping and screaming every now and then.

Dean got up when first reys of sunshine iluminated the bunker walls and discovered you were nowhere to be found. He walked out of the bedroom, his gut telling him that something was terribly wrong. He found you in the armory, wrapped in blankets, your expression telling him that you were deeply lost in your mind. He pushed the doora little further, so he could come in. The sound caught your attention and you quickly turned your head toward the source of commotion. 

The sight of him entering made you jump on your chair and call for Sam. Dean felt disoriented by all of this. He took another step, but you got up, almost knocking the chair over. Winchester stopped, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Dean,” you cried out, your heart shattering more and more with every word, “you need to keep your distance, okay?”

When Sammy showed up, all three of you had a conversation, but denied your his brother any details, you had no clue who’d he react upon hearing them. Dean was hesitant to accept your excuses, but you didn’t leave him much choice. He agreed to stay in his room, remembering how scared of him you were. The memory of you running wanting to get away from him still haunting his mind.

Ten hours later you were tired and even more hopeless. Castiel couldn’t think of explanation and books didn’t provide any answers either. Night fell and you felt petrified beyond belief imaging that you’d have to sleep beside Dean, but you didn’t want to exclude him, make him feel like a horrifying monstrosity.

“You don’t have to do this, you know that, right?” he reminded you, gently tracing your jawline with his fingers. You did, but you couldn’t imagine just abandoning him back then. You wanted to give it one last shot. Even if it was scaring the crap out of you. 

“I know, ” you kissed him and turned off the lights. 

You couldn’t close your eyes for more than few seconds, listening closely to Dean’s breathing. You wanted to believe that the case was closed, you truly did. Hours went by and he didn’t mutter a single word. His chest was rising and falling slowly and his heartbeat remained steady.

And just when you almost convined yourself that he’s fine, he snapped.

Without warning he sat straight and fixed his eyes on something directly in front of him. Your instincts were yelling and begging you to run away, but fear took over your body and ordered you to stay still. Your heart was pounding and blood turned into ice. You’ve seen so many demons, beasts and what not, but this was different, _primal_. As if hell itself was trapped inside his mortal body, threatening to rip him apart.  You couldn’t think logically while being so close to this thing. 

All of a sudden Dean looked down at you and you noticed his pupils were gone; eyes rolled back in his head. You felt yourself becoming tiny under his sight and then he jumped, putting his hands around your throat and throwing you both off the bed. You hit the floor with your back and sharp pain ran thought your body. Your vision became blurry and flat. You were desperately grasping for air, but he wouldn’t let you go.

Thankfully, you got lucky; the door flew open and Sam grabbed the back of Dean’s shirt and pulled him away, giving you a chance you catch a breath. He knocked his brother down and pushed you out of the room, closing the door behind you. That was the night when you decided to leave until you figure out what was going on. You felt terrible giving up on him like that, but you had to stay alive to save his soul. 

* * *

Charlie set herself a goal to make you feel better and help as much as she could. She prepared some snacks and provided you with all the books she’d gathered during the time you were separated. Few of them were so rare that even the Men of Letters didn’t include them in the library collections.

There was no way you could ever repay her and she didn’t even want you to. She was so selfless that she could easily compete with Dean. Maybe it was the reason they were so close. Putting aside all the nerdy stuff. 

“I think you might wanna take a look at-” she stopped mid sentence, catching you staring at her and laughed, “Focus!”

“Sorry, what do you have?” you shook your head.

She raised the book and showed you one of the pages with a title on top of it. _Spells and curses bound to one’s guilt_. Of course, how could you miss that? They were uncommon, but possible to come by and  truly life threatening. Even the cleasing ritual itself was possibly dangerous.

You grabbed the book and started reading, absorbing the words and feeling them burn into your mind.

Then you found what you were looking for.

“Charlie, can you call Sammy and invite him over for a slumber party?”


End file.
